


Twinkies or Cinnamon Buns?

by happyisahabit



Series: Starlight Collection [18]
Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Banter, Established Relationship, F/M, Kissing, Pillow & Blanket Forts, surprise dinner dates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:22:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22025506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyisahabit/pseuds/happyisahabit
Summary: “So?” Blackstar asks, laughter still tinting his voice. Blue eyes twinkle up at her, reflecting the fairy lights above them. “You in?”Maka takes a long, loud sip of her juice box. “Sweeten the deal.”
Relationships: Maka Albarn/Black Star
Series: Starlight Collection [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/674591
Kudos: 10





	Twinkies or Cinnamon Buns?

“When did I give you permission to rearrange all of my furniture?”

BlackStar looks up from his work of carefully tucking a blanket into the crevice of the couch. Maka stands at the entry way with her jacket partly off one shoulder, hair windblown and cheeks rosy from the wind. Her hand not trapped in a jacket sleeve holds a bag of takeaway.

“When you gave me a key to your place,” BlackStar responds, shrugging. He stands and crosses the rest of the room in two strides, dropping a kiss on her cheek while grabbing the bag.

“I didn’t realize granting access meant granting redecorating privileges,” she says, twisting out of the rest of her coat and hanging it up next to his on the hook. Boots come off next as she surveys the room.

The overhead light is out as are the lights from other rooms that lead out of the main entertaining area. The couch and loveseat have been moved and turned onto their sides in an uneven ‘V’ formation and the shapes under the blankets tucked across them suggest that a few dining room chairs and her library slash office’s reading chair have been pressed into service. The blankets are definitely from her room: queen sized sheets in a pale, pale gray and some blankets in shades of muted green and purple. 

From inside the apparent blanket fort, there’s a small glow and she can see some pillows get tossed around when BlackStar retreats into it. After a minute of waiting, his hand sticks out, waving her closer.

“Well?”

Maka sighs and starts towards the kitchen, rolling her sweater’s sleeves up to her elbows. “Don’t we nee-”

“Nope, I’ve got it covered. Just come in already.”

Rolling her eyes at no one, Maka crawls in, the sheets falling after her to ‘close the door’. Inside, she’s surprised to see its roomy despite housing two full grown adults, their dinner, a bucket with ice and BlackStar’s laptop. Little fairy lights that Maka had used for a past holiday party are strung up criss-crossed above them. The rug was already plush, but BlackStar had unzipped one of their sleeping bags and brought probably every pillow in the house inside.

“Rosé?” he grins up at her from where he is sprawled over at least three pillows. He pulls a set of juice boxes from the ice bucket.

“It’s winter, Star,” she laughs, plucking a wine filled juice box from his hand anyway. “And where did you even find mini-box wine?”

“Don’t question my methods,” he says imperiously. “Nor slander the good name rosé by calling it a ‘summer drink’. That’s just downright rude.”

He punctuates this statement with the straw puncturing his box wine and Maka loses it. Giggling and curling in on herself, she hears him rustle around her, pushing things to different places. 

“Laugh it up, pleb,” he says from where he’s started to cage her in with his arms. One hand drifts dangerously close to the one place on her side she’s ticklish.

“Not laughing  _ at _ you,” she chokes out. She flinches at the playful pinch to her tummy, under her sweater. “Just wondering what in the world brought this on.”

“Well,” BlackStar starts, trapped her beneath him as he reaches for his wine box again and takes a loud sip. “I thought we’d have a romantic dinner and then… you know.”

She raises an eyebrow, waiting for the punchline. He smirks down at her and she knows he’s got a joke, waiting, simmering under the surface, despite the way he lowers himself down, nuzzling his nose below her ear softly. His lips slip over her skin there and she squirms, unintentionally exposing more neck. He presses a grinning mouth over her pulse point- quickly picking up pace- and she knows he’s going to ruin this moment in the worst way possible. Maka’s hands have found their way to his back, fingers splayed over the muscle and scars under his long sleeve tee. 

He’s drawing it out and they both know it. Maka’s skin in burning where he has kissed and hasn’t touched. His breath ghosts over her ear and she wishes he would just kiss her already. Her toes are curling in anticipation.

“Dinner, drinks, and… a Naruto marathon?” he whispers. “I just downloaded the whole first season.”

His voice is sinfully low, but Maka squishes his face with her hands and pushes him off her.

“I knew it, you absolute dweeb,” she shouts, still blushing furiously. BlackStar laughs uproariously, holding the wine box up in the air with one hand and draws her in to stop her flailing with the other. 

“So?” he asks, laughter still tinting his voice. Blue eyes twinkle up at her, reflecting the fairy lights above them. “You in?”

Maka picks up her own box and punches the straw into it. “Sweeten the deal.” She takes a long, loud sip and he narrows his eyes.

“Boxed dessert wine, my sweet ass, and the dulcet tones of Kakashi-sensei?” he says, reaching behind him and accidentally pressing play on the laptop. The screen lights up and the opening theme starts playing. “What more could you want?”

“You never mentioned your sweet ass was part of the deal.”

“I thought that was implied, so I had this prepared for later.” There’s a crinkling of plastic and Maka looks up to see a pair of twinkies. She makes to grab for them, but he keeps them out of reach. “Uh uh, dinner first!”

“And cinnamon buns later,” she smirks back. They jostle around until they’re both on their stomachs in front of the small screen. The takeout is opened and utensils BlackStar had brought in before she got home are shared as they dig in. 

“Wait, cinnamon buns? They’re twinkies,” he asks three episodes in. Maka just smiles benignly then grabs a handful of his backside. “Ooohhhh….!”

They don’t watch another episode that night.


End file.
